


Man-wiches: a Story of Forgiveness

by JustSuperMione



Series: R/Hr canon missing moments [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:23:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSuperMione/pseuds/JustSuperMione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dobby is thinking that Wheezy would get his My-Knee back if he is just speaking to her!” Dobby suggested weakly. A one shot story about Hermione, Ron and the remarkable power forgiveness. In the hospital wing after his poisoning, they needed to talk so they shared a manwich. Can be read separately: follows the events of Seamus' Day Out (as well as Christmas Tradition Interrupted Again and Sad FM) and ties in with the rest of my universe. Missing Moment set in HBP and OotP R/Hr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man-wiches: a Story of Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> A one shot story about Hermione, Ron and the remarkable power forgiveness. In the hospital wing after his poisoning, they needed to talk so they shared a manwich. Can be read separately: follows the events of Seamus’ Day Out (as well as Christmas Tradition Interrupted Again and Sad FM) and ties in with the rest of my universe.

** The early hours of 2nd March 1997  **

Hermione quietly rose from Ginny’s bed. The pair had collapsed after returning from the Hospital Wing last night. Ginny had managed to sleep through the night; Hermione couldn’t manage it. So she got up and made her way back to the Hospital Wing. Yesterday, she had nearly lost Ron. Not lost him to some silly cow who was deluded enough to think her relationship was still happy. Really lost him, like died and never spoken to him again kind of lost.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine as she climbed through the portrait hole. Carefully, she extracted the watch that hung on a chain around her neck. He’d sent it to her for Christmas; after their argument in a lonely corridor after he’d saver her from McLaggen:

_“YOU SNOGGED VICTOR KRUM!” he exploded, backing away from her._

_“NO. I. DIDN’T!” she countered, extremely annoyed. That couldn’t be what this was about; Hermione thought desperately._

_“YES YOU DID. GINNY TOLD ME...” he admitted. Anger; hurt; regret; mingled within her. She wanted to be sick. Then, he’d made his confession; Ginny and Dean snogging... Harry had been there. Why hadn’t they told her? Why hadn’t Ron?_

_“AND INSTEAD OF ASKING ME – YOUR WHATEVER...” Hermione snarled. “YOU IGNORE ME AND THEN TAKE UP WITH THAT... THAT... HARLOT! FOR YOUR INFORMATION RONALD,” she screamed as her anger had turned into white fury. “VICTOR ONLY EVER KISSED MY HAND... HE WANTED MORE BUT... THE SNOG SHE WAS REFERING TO WAS WITH YOU..!”_

Hermione tried not to think about that argument; tried not to think about the crazy-Ron-sense that had prevented them from being together. Since he’d started up with the blond she’d spent a lot of time avoiding him. Unconsciously, she played with the chain around her neck. It was her first wizard watch. Yesterday was the first day she’d worn it. Intending it as a sign, she’d resume speaking to him for the day as his birthday present. She had planned to sit next to him at breakfast, steal his toast and go from there.

Then, there had been the YOU SNOGGED KRUM argument and that changed everything. Ron was remorseful.

After Christmas, McGonagall had given him detention and ordered them to resume Prefect rounds together. Ron had spent months begging her for forgiveness. He’d tried everything. Harry had even noticed; like him pretending nothing had happened and trying to engaging her in conversation. Most he hadn’t, like when Ron had sent her a box of Sugar Quill’s on Valentine’s Day, or how he’d studied so hard and gotten okay marks. Every time they’d done their duty; he’d begged, pleaded and even tried to blackmail her with their responsibility to Harry.

Then, the night before last, (was it really less than forty-eight hours ago?) on Prefect rounds, he’d pleaded with her to speak with him for the day. On his bended knees he begged her for just one day because he was miserable without her. _And he knew_ he said _that she missed him_. She hadn’t answered him. Every other time he’d beseeched her for forgiveness she’d always replied; _‘dump the blond’_. This time she couldn’t reply because the one day he wanted was his birthday and she _did_ miss him. She’d remained silent; he’d respected that.

After a fretful night, she decided to relent; _just for the day I’m going to talk to him_ , she told herself. However, Ron hadn’t come to breakfast. She heard Lavender rage about Romilda Vane. Little did the blond know; Ron had ingested outdated love potion intended for Harry and that he had found his way to death’s door.

The first she’d known of it, she’d been speaking to Ginny about how she should approach Ron. They’d decided that Hermione should just, do something normal like ‘nick his toast’. Lavender had come in without Ron. There was in fact, no sign of him. Hermione played with the idea that she, Hermione, could get him breakfast in bed as a birthday surprise instead. It was a daring plan. With Lavender busy down here; she realised now was her chance. Ginny was grinning ear to ear as they exited the hall. Then, the unthinkable had happened. Neville had run into them and in a rush said:

_“Ron’s been poisoned, in Slughorn’s office. He’s in the H...”_

Hermione hadn’t waited to hear anymore. Ron could be dying; he needed her. She sprinted away, not even noticing the cascade of books that she left in her wake. The day had been a wretched one; by far the longest of her life. It started with Harry telling her the sorry tale, and then repeating it to Ginny (who had been delayed by picking up the forgotten books and not knowing about the particular short cut that Hermione had did.) The day got worse as Harry paced and obsessively went over what had happened and who was behind it. He didn’t understand, couldn’t know how unhelpful it was. All she could do was listen; praying that Ron would make it through this; silently, avowing to never let that _cow_ come between them again: wanting just _one_ more chance.

Hermione breathed in deeply trying to control the anxiety that was building up. She was in the corridor leading to the hospital wing; the site of her visual with Harry and later her argument with Lavender.

 _"YOU MAYBE HIS GIRL BUT YOU ARE BY NO MEANS HIS FRIEND," Hermione had spat to the blond. Before informing her that:_  "Friendship and communication are the foundation of any  _long term significant romantic relationship!"_

She slipped into the hospital wing avowing to that in the future they would talk more. Quietly, she approached the bed. She blinked back tears as she studied his sleeping figure. He was so pale in the moonlight. Tentatively, she reached out her hand and brushed some hair from his brow. It was cold and clammy. She didn’t like it. He could have died and he would have never known how important he was to her. He wouldn’t have known... that she was better because of him. Would have never known how much she thought of him; not as a sidekick but as _her_ hero.

She gave a shudder and slipped her hand into his.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” Hermione muttered to his sleeping form. She bend down and kissed his hand. Silently, she started to cry again. _How could we ever have let Lavender Brown come between us when life was so precious; so delicate?_ “You have to promise to never leave me again... Ron!”

“My-knee,” Ron muttered in his sleep. That was the second time he’d done that. The first time, they’d been surrounded by everyone. Now they were all alone and she could respond.

“Ron,” she answered, feeling very strange saying his name without bitterness after all these months. His eyes fluttered open and he tried to focus on her. “Ronnie, I’m here...” she whispered, sitting up and cupping his cheek. His lip twitched upwards but then winced with pain.

“Madam Pomfrey!” Hermione exclaimed loudly slipping her hand out of his and looking for help. “Madam Pomfrey, Ron’s awake and in pain!”

A few moments later, the Matron emerged from her office wearing her dressing gown. She quickly flew to her patient’s side.

“Mr Weasley, you’re recovering from a serious poison, which reacted badly to a strong out-of-date love potion you accidently injected,” she explained as she started to examine him. Then, she remembered Hermione was there.

“Miss Granger,” she said matter-of-factly. “When a healer examines a patient, they usually like to do that without their spouses watching.” Her tone then softened. “Kindly come back _later_ , when Mr Weasley is a little stronger.” Hermione nodded and hurried away; glad he was alive, conscious of his eyes watching her leave.

She was half way back at Gryffindor tower before she realised that Madam Pomfrey considered _her_ his partner. 

* * *

 

**Later that day...**

Ron spent most of Sunday asleep. When they’d entered the hospital wing; Madam Pomfrey hadn’t said anything about her late night visit. Hermione was glad of this because she didn’t want to explain her actions to either Harry or Ginny who were stationed at Ron’s bedside waiting for him to wake up again. The day seemed to drag on. Not even homework, which usually was a distraction, could stop her mind from wandering over to ‘what if’s’ and wild theories.

At around noon he woke up and was still groggy. Harry spend time explaining what happened, for the hundredth time, and Hermione sat by meekly. She thought it was best to pretend like nothing had happened.

“But it’s like I was saying last night,’ she interjected her own thought on the matter. “The poisoner couldn’t have known Slughorn very well because if she had they’d have known Slugy would keep it for himself, seeing as it was so nice.” She reasoned. “I think the person that poisoned you also cursed Katie with that necklace.”

“So they poisoned me by accident?” Ron asked quietly, looking grave, “That doesn’t fill me with a feeling of unending joy...”

“Me neither,” Hermione confessed. “It means that the person behind this is even more dangerous than we thought when Katie was cursed...”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, looking at her piercingly, “because he doesn’t care who gets hurts in the process!” Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Well,” Ginny interrupted, “the prevailing theory seems to think it’s an attack on the Quidditch team,” she then recounted the various theories quidditch plot theories from around his sick bed last night. Although, Ron was clearly paying attention to the conversation, Hermione noticed that his gaze kept drifting towards her as though not believing she was really there.

Soon after this Madam Pomfrey seemed to think Ron needed some rest and so gave them a five minute warning.

“Well bye Ronniekins,” Ginny said standing up. Harry didn’t seem willing to move until she clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on you... these two need a minute!”

“Yeah, bye mate,” Harry said slightly dazed. When they had left silence engulfed them.

“I hope your keeping an eye on them, Hermione...” Ron whispered.

“Why?” Hermione asked, her brow knitting together.

“Because, on the off chance this is a quidditch plot,” Ron said trying to be sound light-hearted, “those two are in danger...”

“It’s not a quidditch plot,” Hermione said, feeling a little crumpled.

“I know it isn’t,” he replied firmly, “but the alternative, that there’s a would-be-murder, that doesn’t care who he hurts is far worse... _And_ , Hermione; keep safe!” Hermione nodded weakly and got up to leave and say goodbye Ron moved quickly and grabbed her hand.

“Hermione, please come back later... Tonight maybe... We need to talk!”

* * *

 

**Later that night...**

Silently, Hermione slipped through the castle carrying her basket. As one of Harry’s best friends, she’d had six years of ignoring the curfew. As a Prefect, she would often roam the castle doing her duty. This, however, was a first. Never had she done so carrying a picnic hamper, heading for the Hospital Wing. Never had she received a signed note from McGonagall giving her permission to be out of bounds until her friend was out Pomfrey’s care.

Ron made the best sandwiches in Hogwarts. He called them manwiches because they were a meal. He took leftovers and turned them into these towers of deliciousness. Jammed packed with leftovers, the basket of food she carried was a peace offering. They would talk, he would make them a manwich and then she could breathe easy because then she’d be sure both he and they were okay.

Gleefully, she continued down the corridor; almost floating. Lavender hadn’t been given a note from McGonagall. She’d spent today, a usually quiet homework Sunday, moaning about not being told about Ron’s poisoning and then shooting Hermione dirty looks. Hermione couldn’t care less. Last night, after a stressful day, she’d given the blond a piece of her mind and today she was talking to him again. And he’s asked to see her, so here she was.

Quietly, she entered the Hospital Wing. He was waiting for her.

She approached him cautiously. This was the third time she’d seen him today, but their first opportunity to properly speak alone.  

“Hi,” he happily greeted her.

“Hi,” she replied suddenly feeling nervous.

“Thanks for coming,” Ron said with a weak smile as she placed the basket on her bed.

“What’s all this?” he asked eyeing the basket curiously.

“Man-wich provisions,” Hermione said plainly. “You’ll not recover on hospital food alone!”

Impulsively, he reached out his hand and started bringing out the leftovers she’d brought. With every container, his grin widened and she could see him figuring out how to proceed.

“Thank you,” Hermione said in a small voice. “For saving me in the corridor from Cormac... Seeing him burping up slugs was... in retrospect... _hilarious_!”

“What else are friends for?” Ron dared to suggest. Hermione looked at him.

“We were friends then?” Hermione asked weakly.

“Yeah, and I reckon so,” he said uneasily. After a pause he announced. “I have a confession. I was really upset and worried about you going to that party with McLaggen. So I asked Dobby to keep an eye on you. After he knocked into you with the tea tray, he found me in the library... and told me about the mistletoe.”

* * *

 

** The night of the Slug Club Party... **

“Dobby did it sir,” Dobby said excitedly.

“You protected her?” Ron whispered urgently stroking Crookshank’s who sat on his knee. “From… from him? Is she okay?”

“Yes sir, Miss is alright. That boy tricked her with enchanted mistletoe. Miss isn’t wanting to keep kissing him. But Wheezy isn’t going to be fretting,” the elf had sounded proud. “It was just like you is telling me sir. I rammed sausage rolls into his shin. So Dobby is stopping that boy touching your Miss ‘My-knee’.”

“Thanks Dobby,” Ron said relived. “And she’s not my Mione at the moment!”

“Dobby is thinking that Wheezy would get his My-Knee back if he is just speaking to her!” Dobby suggested weakly.

“Yeah, I know,” Ron said looking at the Marauder’s Map. “Hang on a minute... Hermione’s moved out of Slugly’s Office. Bloody hell, McLaggen’s following her.” Without thinking of the consequences, Ron bolted upwards, displacing Crookshanks. The pair then ran to intercept Hermione and her ‘date’.

* * *

 

** Back in the hospital wing **

Hermione was speechless and this recollection: gratitude mixed with anger.

“’Mione it isn’t like it sounds…” Ron started pleadingly. “I wasn’t interfering.” Ron argued obviously terrified but continued as only a Gryffindor would… “I promised you a long time ago that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you… _That_ promise overtakes the dating promise. And I know what a randy git McLaggen is…”

“Ron did I or did I not state to you on 26th of December 1994 at 5:30am that who I date is not up to you.” Ron nodded. “And did you not promise me that you’d never interfere again – so help you Merlin!”

In that moment, the reminder of the Yule Ball sparked something that made Ron change completely.

“I KNOW OKAY? I KNOW,” he huffed. “But McLaggen is all hands and no manners. And I have one simple question Hermione. Am I ever going to be forgiven for not asking you to that BLOODY Ball?” he muttered darkly. “I don’t know why I even bother to protect you. Why do you need me when you have Krum, Harry, even Fred and George would! Not to mention any number of secret boyfriends that I don’t know about?”

“WHAT?” shouted a shocked Hermione, then she dropped her voice. “You’re a dirty stinking hypocrite Ronald Weasley! How dare you accuse me of being a scarlet woman when you’ve been doing your best to educate the younger Gryffindor’s about sex: with a practical demonstration..!”

They both glared at each other. Crossing their arm’s tightly.

“I only kissed Lavender back because I was upset about what Ginny said and about the Quidditch thing,” he admitted grumpily.

“Oh Ronald... I can’t believe you hurt me like that!” Hermione said in a small raw voice.

“I just was feeling hurt too... I just... oh, I don’t know... and now I’m Won Won not your Ronnie,” he said miserably. There was a silence.

“I thought I’d die when she called you Ronnie,” Hermione whispered.

* * *

 

** The Common Room after the first Quidditch match November  **

Hermione had spent the Sunday after the quidditch match either in her bedroom or the library. Everywhere she’d gone there had been whispers and looks laced with pity. She was reviled by them all. She’d stayed away from the Great Hall because she knew she couldn’t take it. Seeing everyone know Ron was Lavender’s now; watching their disgusting displays of public ‘affection’. It had been Ginny who had tracked her down and dragged her into the kitchen for dinner.

As Monday morning arrived, Hermione felt dread. This was the first time she’d have to deal with Lavender and Ron. Carefully, she removed herself from her room and went for an early morning bath. She needed the refreshment. By the time she arrived back in the Common Room it was seven thirty and she needed to get her books then wait for Harry.

As Hermione approached the Portrait Hole, she saw a gaggle of giggling third year girls strangely exited. They quieted when they recognised her. Uneasiness churned her stomach. Swiftly she entered the Common Room.  What happened next was so horrible, it happened in a sickening slow motion.

Lavender Brown looked disgustedly gorgeous in dawn’s cold light. The blond, who never usually left their room this early, was looking out of the window towards Hagrid’s. Silently, as if on cue, a tall red-head confidently snuck up behind Lavender and covered her eyes. He was grinning in an adorable way; she’d always assumed that grin would be _hers_ somehow.

“Guess who?” Ron whispered in a sexy voice that resonated across to her. She was sure he’d seen her. This time, however, Hermione promised herself she wouldn’t cry or react to him and his ‘girlfriend’, in anyway. Purposely, she strolled to the staircase trying not to hear Lavender guess:

“Is it my big, strong Quidditch star?” she giggled in a nauseating way. Hermione continued to walk. Not even trying to remember a complex _Arithmancy_ equation couldn’t prevent her from hearing him respond:

“Not guna do,” he teased playfully. “Say my name _... sweetheart_!”

 _Oh God,_ she thought _I’m going to be sick._

“Ron Weasley,” Lavender squealed gleefully. “You’re my _boyfriend_ Ron Weasley!”

“Yes I am,” he replied before spinning her round in an almost graceful, romantic way. Then, Ron Weasley’s lips attached themselves to Lavender’s. They were all hands and enthusiasm.

Bile rose in Hermione’s throat. She was completely frozen. It was like someone had put a full body bind on her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Small hands, started to guide her towards the stairs. Numbly, she went, unable to process what she was seeing; _her_ Ron was eating Lavender’s face. It was her Boggart from her third year exam; and no amount of laughing would stop the sight.

“Ronnie,” Lavender sighed, and Hermione’s resolve crumbled. She started to sob as her feet somehow carried her up stairs. A year ago, that had been them. When her eyes were covered; her body had stiffened. “Guess who?” Ron had whispered playfully: she’d relaxed into his familiar touch. Butterflies had risen in her stomach. Then they’d teased... and... and... they’d flirted but had remained just friends.

As she entered the girl’s staircase she heard him say something to Lavender. What did it matter to her what he said to his girlfriend? Sorrow overwhelmed her and she was glad that Ginny was there.

* * *

**At Ron's bedside**

“She only did that once, luv,” Ron said automatically adding the endearment.

“How can you call me _luv_ after being wrapped round her like the Giant Squid for months?” Hermione said feeling a little hysteric.

“Because you’re my Mione and Lavender is just a girl I _used_ to snog!” Ron said sitting up quickly reaching for her hand. He needed to calm Hermione down, the last thing he needed was another argument. This, he instantly regretted because he felt woozy. Hermione noticed and started to fuss over him: which wasn’t bad at all he decided. She placed her hand on his shoulder as she adjusted his pillow. Hermione’s heart fluttered and she saw Ron gulp.

“I can’t be your Mione while Lavender’s still your girlfriend, Ronald,” Hermione said practically, as she urged him back onto the pillow. “It hurts too much!”

“When I hurt you... Every time made you cry I wanted to die...” Ron admitted uneasily.

“Don’t say that Ron, don’t you ever say that after you nearly,” Hermione said giving a barely audible sob.

“But I have to tell you. I did, especially after Slughorn’s Christmas party... when I realised my Krumy mistake!”

* * *

 

** Post-corridor fight, the night of the Slug Club party... **

He felt sick. There wasn’t another adjective for it: sick with wrongness and worthlessness. Ginny had gotten it wrong. She’d shouted that Hermione had snogged Krum. Hermione had never snogged the pumpkin-head. Hermione had snogged him: Ron Weasley, after the ball and loads of times after. He’d been jealous of himself. He’d wasted needless time and now where were they?

He’d made Hermione sob. Their conversation played in his mind.

_“I can't live without you..." he’d confessed, begging her to take him back and then... she regained her composure and spat."You seem to be doing fine enough without me!" She was more beautiful and yet terrifying, than he’d ever seen her. "I'm not!" he assured her. "It's not the same with her as it is with you..." Hermione just growled. "Can't we go back to being friends?" he had implored reaching for the hand he missed so much. The one he knew so well. Quickly, it was withdrawn. "NEVER!" she screamed as she slapped him._

His cheek gentle throbbed with the pain, but he welcomed it. When he slumped back into the Common Room, and stood there for a moment, numbly. He noticed _‘his girlfriend’_ in the corner but could neither find the words nor create the movement to chuck her. Lavender, tired of waiting, moved like a hurricane.

“Won Won!” she exclaimed throwing her arms around him. “You’re back!” she began to attack his neck, uncomfortably he’s staggered to the sofa and she’d planted herself on his knee. “Where are your books?”

“The library,” he stammered, as she started to kiss him again, “forgot them...” Suddenly, her lips were all over him and he was responding. If it had felt wrong before, snogging Lavender now felt downright traitorous. He was using her... Using Lavender as someone to snog because he couldn’t snog Hermione... He nipped her lip and Lavender let out a delighted sound... which wasn’t anything like a Hermione sound.

He remembered kissing Hermione in the library when they were running from Umbridge; it had been explosive. Her feel: her taste. Suddenly, he was in that moment again. His mind clouded and she was all there was. As the time ticked on, he slipped his fingers into her hair. It didn’t feel right.

Then, it happened. The thing his brothers would think was crazy. The thing that Harry didn’t find out about until after the final battle and they had to explain all their relationship-madness...

“Hermione...” he moaned passionately. The sucker noise happened again and he felt that his lip’s (and face) were cold and wet. He opened his eyes and didn’t see Hermione (like he was expecting) but Lavender was there... looking upset.

“Hermione!” she shouted bitterly.

“What about Hermione, Won-Won?”

“Errrr...” he spluttered trying to think with his hormone filled brain, “Hermione I thought that I saw Hermione walking it... there was a flash of hair and an overall feeling of loathing washing over me...”

“Well, it wasn’t her... she came back a little before you with Crookshanks looking very uppity... don’t think it when well with McLaggen. Well, she’s such a prude; it’s hardly a surprise. The only person she’s ever snogged is Krum anyway...”

And just like that a golden opportunity to dump Lavender Brown evaporated and one that Ron would long to relive until their eventual break-up.

* * *

 

** Back at Ron’s hospital bed... **

“So you’re telling me that you said my name while snogging the blond and she still didn’t dumb your sorry arse?” Hermione enquired through gritted teeth.

“That’s pretty much it, yah,” Ron confirmed feeling embarrassed.

“And she bought that explanation!” Hermione exclaimed... then added pointedly, “you do realise that you have to chuck her don’t you?” She then bit her lip.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “the sooner the better I reckon. Can we talk about something else please?” He asked, unpacking the leftovers from the basket and beginning to construct an epic sandwich.

“I think that would be a good idea...” Hermione said brightly, the last thing she wanted was to think about that cow. Hermione looked over and saw a sudden flash of delight on Ron’s face.

“Actually, I just wanted to ask you one thing,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Can you explain what Arithmancy is?” Hermione’s eyes widened. He was asking her his question before; well not exactly him, Fred and George had given her a daydream charm for Christmas. Instead of having a pirate adventure, she’d had the lifelike daydream of what would have happened if Ron hadn’t caught Dean and Ginny snogging. And part of that daydream had been him meeting her after Arithmancy and asking her this very question.

Trying to keep her facial expression placid she answered: “It’s the magical discipline that included predicting the future with numbers and numerology. Those who study Arithmancy are called Arithmancers.” Hermione explained gleefully. “Bridget Wenlock, first discovered the magical [properties](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Arithmancy) of the number seven in the 13th century...”

“And Mione,” Ron interjected with a wicked tone of voice, that reminded her of that daydream. “How exactly is what old Vector teaching different from what odd Trelawney's subject?”

Instead of getting angry, Hermione giggled, and giggled. She laughed so much she nearly fell off her chair. Ron looked at her like she was a mental. She took a deep steadying breath and continued.

“There two completely different thing’s: _Professor_ Trelawney desperately interprets signs of her own creation; seeing the grim in the clouds, death in tealeaves and credits ‘an inner eye’ to decode dreams as windows into the future instead of using them as windows into a person’s own desires.” She was gazing at him intently, trying to be serious but feeling giddy. “Arithmancy uses numbers that appear in people’s lives. Numbers that are logically come by then used to discern reoccurring patterns.” Hermione said as her hair began to get wilder, Ron didn’t respond he just examined her in disbelief. “I mean you’ve seen my homework. _Professor_ Trelawney sets dream diaries that are more creative writing assignments – _Professor_ Vector sets homework assignments, which included writing essays, requiring consultation and composition of complex number charts.” Hermione explained desperately. “Do you see the difference Ronald?”

“Oh okay,” Ron said with a tinge of disappointment.

“Why so glum, Ronnie?” Hermione asked noting his slight pout. Ron’s ears started to redden.

“It’s just...” he said layering more meat and cheese into the sandwich. “I haven’t seen you really passionate about something in a while and thought you’d react differently...”

“Because you have a whole list of reasons why I’m wrong?”

“How did you...”

“Know... because the twins sent me something that told me you’d say that...” Hermione smiled not wanting Ron to know that she’d had a daydream about their relationship. Ron looked shocked. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you but not now.”

Ron looked curious but let the matter rest and concentrated on finishing the manwich. There was the correct balance of meat, cheese, roasted vegetables and gravy. With a happy grin, he grabbed his wand and deliberate moved it over the bread: “calortostious...” he muttered.

Satisfying heat began to rise from the gravy and filling whilst the bread looked perfectly toasted. The smell was intoxicating.

“I’m sorry Hermione,” Ron said quietly, offering Hermione half of the completed manwich...

“I’m sorry too,” Hermione replied taking the tower of deliciousness like the peace offering it was.

The reason behind the apologies went unsaid but both knew the other was sincere. In compatible silence, they ate their food. Shyly, they directed smiles at each other between bits.

Once she had finished Hermione curiosity peaked: “Where did you learn that warming/toasting spell?”

“Bill: I made a manwich at the Burrow and he nicked a bit then did that!” Ron explained pointing to the toasted sandwich.

“Trust you to remember a spell about food,” Hermione stifled through a yawn. She looked at her watch and gasped. It was after one and she had class in the morning.

“Hermione,” he said, cautiously, “time for you to go to bed...” he yawned too.

“I don’t want to,” she confessed suddenly, “I just want to stay and talk to you all night.” Then, Hermione blushed and Ron thought it was the most adorable thing in the world.

“You don’t have to, you know... I’ll still be here tomorrow. Probably here for a few days and you could come, visit me,” he said settling into his pillow. “Before classes, after classes... instead of classes,” he smiled and Hermione looked scandalised. It was his turn to laugh now. Hermione slowly got up and hesitated for a moment. Then, she tucked him into bed and gently touched his forehead.

“Good night, Ron,” she said tenderly.

“Good night Hermione,” he said quietly, allowing his eyes to close.  

“See you tomorrow,” she murmured moving away.

“Promise,” he asked, hopefully.

“Promise,” she replied definitely. 

**Author's Note:**

> “Calortostious...”: heat and toast the bread. 
> 
> This fic has been in the works for a while... it included a scene about the last time they were in the hospital wing after the department of mysteries. However, it didn’t seem right. It has moved to chapter two of the Brother’s Code: The Golden Book. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy.


End file.
